


Diner Talk

by star_named_andy



Series: Paws-itivity [4]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barduil - Freeform, M/M, Transformation, cat!Bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil and Bard find out a bit more about each other during a night out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diner Talk

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

After dealing with the worst in the business, Thorin Durin and his crew, and not even breaking a sweat, Thranduil thought his patience was utterly infinite. Perhaps it was because there wasn’t a massive multi-million dollar deal on the line that Thranduil found his tolerance dwindling now. Bard’s curiosity with human things was endless and so was his perseverance; he continued punching buttons and turning dials in the front of the car, despite Thranduil’s asking him to stop over and over and over and _over_.

He’d never known how many radio stations there were until the brunette made it his job to tune in to every single one and fluctuate the volume on each one. There were times when Thranduil thought the madness would stop as Bard’s hands left the front of the car, he left the radio alone, and bobbed his head along with songs he liked, but as soon as the song would end he’d flip to another station. The coldest and hottest bursts of air kept blowing in his face, under his rear and down by his feet as Bard clicked through the temperature regulating system. After three times of the windows going up and down incessantly and Thranduil’s hair blowing in his face, the blonde used his power on the driver’s side to lock the window opening and closing function. Bard pouted a little, but moved on to the next thing which happened to be the hazard lights button. That had to be the end of it.

“No more.” Thranduil spoke firmly. He gently clasped Bard’s hand in his and then set it on the brunette’s knee. “Just…just enough with the button’s and switches and dials.”

“What’s this?” Bard asked as his fingers toward his a string of glimmering gems hanging around Thranduil’s rearview mirror.

“Don’t touch that.” Thranduil spat and Bard’s hand flinched away.

“Why? What is it?”

“It belonged to someone very important to me and I would prefer if no one touched it.”

“Is it his?”

“Whose?”

“The other one of you.”

“My son; Legolas is his name.”

“That’s what I thought, but it didn’t sound much like any name I’ve heard so I wasn’t sure. Is it Legolas’?”

“No. It was his mother’s.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing for scaring the living hell out of me back there, or something else?” Thranduil mused. The first would be more likely and certainly warranted an apology, but his intuition suspected that was not what provoked the brunette to randomly proclaim that he was sorry. Perhaps he was sorry for helping Gandalf trick him and Legolas…no, probably not.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, so that too, I suppose. But I meant I’m sorry about his mother.” Bard said and Thranduil’s posture straightened, his shoulders stiffening.

“Why?” the blonde questioned, giving him a skeptical dose of side-eye and seeing that Bard still stared up at the bracelet with awe twinkling in his eyes before diverting his attention back to the road.

“You said it _was_ hers, meaning it isn’t anymore. So she either left, or she… _left_. So, I’m sorry.”

“If you could tone it down with the talking, I would be very grateful.”

“ _Psh!_ Are you kidding? I’ll talk as much as I like! You have no idea what it’s like to have a lot to say and no proper vocal chords to do so!” Bard exclaimed, but just as he had declared he would not stay quiet, there was a pause. Thranduil didn’t even turn his head, not caring why Bard had suddenly betrayed his own defensive proclamation and fallen silent. He was grateful for those few noiseless seconds, but that’s as long as the peace lasted, a few seconds. Bard went off again and Thranduil sighed, wanting to bang his head on the steering wheel until he physically was incapable of hearing anything else the other had to say. “I didn’t mean to remind you of bad memories or anything…so I’ll stop talking about that.”

“It’s not just that.”

“What else is it?”

“You don’t listen very well, do you?”

“I listen perfectly fine. In fact, I guarantee my hearing is better than yours.”

“Ah, yes, it’s just the _obeying_ part you don’t do well.” Thranduil remarked and Bard scoffed with at the comment with jerking movement Thranduil didn’t exactly see all of from his peripheral vision.

“I don’t need to _obey_ anyone! _I am not a pet._ I just happen to need your help, since I can’t help myself.” He huffed and crossed his arms. He let the brunette simmer, figuring if he did not respond that Bard would simply remain mute while he steamed, but no. Thranduil wasn’t so lucky. “So, what’s your problem, exactly?.....Hello? Hellooo? Hey!”

Thranduil kept quiet through Bard’s prodding until Bard’s persistence moved him out of his seat and over the center console so that he breathed on Thranduil’s face. Thranduil immediately swung the car over onto the side of the road and slammed on the brakes, sending Bard crashing and yowling into his lap. Thranduil shoved him back over into the passenger’s seat and shook his hair away from his face before pointing his irritated glare at the whining brunette.

“You’re a horrible driver!” he ridiculed.

“No, you’re a horrible passenger! Shut up and stay on your side of the car while I’m driving!”

“I think grumpy doesn’t even begin to describe you.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Thranduil retorted and yanked the car back onto the road after glancing at his rearview mirror and seeing the way was clear. Bard jerked in his seat as the car accelerated forward and grabbed onto the seat.

“I’m being friendly. I don’t understand why you’re being so hostile.” He said while leaning very close into Thranduil’s space.

“Cats aren’t supposed to talk and its freaking me out, honestly.” Thranduil shot back, his tone as frazzled as his hair was.

“But I told you I’m not a cat!”

“You’ve been telling me a lot of things and that’s the problem at the moment. Can you just let the shock settle in?”

“Really, I haven’t told you hardly anything. When we get there, I will tell you everything you need to know.”

With that, he finally ceased talking and sat back in his chair, mesmerized by his window view. Thank god.

 

The street sides were packed with cars, since it was a Friday night and there were bars and clubs a few blocks away. Just Thranduil’s luck, the blonde figured. He would park in the middle of the street if he so pleased and anyone that gave him flack for it would have to incur his wrath, because boy, did he have some stored in the deepest pocket of his mind, ready to be unleashed if anything tried to stop him from settling this matter.

A sickness hit the bottom of his stomach as one by one, shops he passed were either closed or just dimming down their lights to lock up for the day. He slowed, piercing his gaze through the darkness to pick out the cursed pet shop that sold him a human-cat-thing, moonie, _whatever_ , for a pretty penny. The nerve of that damn Gandalf guy. Thranduil wanted so badly to just give him one good sock in the jaw; no matter how old the man was, he was a trickster.

As he picked out the sign, his chest tightened and the car came to a complete stop. The sign on the door read “CLOSED” and there wasn’t a single light on in the place.

The blonde grabbed the steering wheel tightly and let his head fall back onto the headrest of his seat. He sat silently for a moment, breathing and focusing on staying calm, rather than beating himself up about the fact that he should have taken the time of day into account – of course the shop wouldn’t be open so late! But he was not the only one to blame. He slowly turned his head to look at Bard, who was smiling faintly at him, innocently. _Innocently_.

“You knew.” Thranduil spoke and Bard shrugged.

“You told me to shut up before I had the chance to mention it.” There were a thousand rebuttals racing through Thranduil’s head, but somehow, he had the strength to resist fighting with the brunette for the moment. “Does this mean we’re going back now?”

“Yes.” Thranduil said and rubbed one of his eyes as he sighed before rolling forward once again. He would find a place to turn around to go back the direction they came. He grabbed his phone and speed dialed Legolas, wanting to know where he was; if he were home, he would have to figure out what to do with Bard.

“But we’re already out, you know? We should do something!” Bard said and then looked around quickly as he heard the ringing of the phone on speaker. “What’s that?”

“I’m making a phone call. Be quiet.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Be quiet.”

“I just wa-”

“Be quiet.”

There was a click, and then Legolas’ voice came through.

“Hi, dad.” He spoke and Bard’s face lit up, his grin spreading wide and his sharp teeth exposed for Thranduil to grimace at; he looked pretty normal in the outfit Thranduil had wrangled for him, but the teeth were still odd.

“Don’t say a word.” Thranduil whispered before Bard could respond back to the younger blonde he admired so much.

“That’s _him!_ I want to say hi!” Bard whispered back and before Thranduil could refute, Legolas interrupted.

“Dad, are you there?”

“I’m here, Legolas.” Thranduil answered quickly. “Where are you?”

“Still with Tauriel. Things are pretty rough. Is it okay if I stay with her for the night?”

“Perfectly okay.” Thranduil said and Bard whined, dismayed that his favorite of the two blonde’s wouldn’t be returning home that night. “Give her my best wishes.”

“I will. Are you home?”

“No, but I was. Just out getting some things.”

“Make sure you check up on Bard, okay? He’s been alone a while. He’s probably lonely.”

“Mmhm.” Thranduil hummed. He didn’t even want to look in Bard’s direction and see his disgustingly happy expression. There was a pause.

“Dad?”

“Yes, I’m still here, little leaf.”

“Is everything alright? You sound off.”

“Everything’s fine. Just tired from a long day.”

“Well, get home and relax. Have some tea, take a bath, get to bed.” That all sounded nice, but unrealistic, seeing as Thranduil had a _thing_ to babysit. “You should cuddle up with Bard. I know you were yesterday. You can’t deny he’s sweet, and definitely cute.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Thranduil said with as little contempt in his tone as possible.

“Tell him I miss him?”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you.”

The call was ended and Bard made a startling noise of excitement, or so Thranduil assumed, by the look on the brunette’s face. His hands cupped his face, but that didn’t stop him from smiling wildly.

“Did you hear? _He_ thinks I’m cute _and_ sweet. I wish my tail weren’t stuck in these pants, though. It’s awfully uncomfortable when it moves. Oh well! I’m still happy he thinks all of those things about me. He’s so kind! No one has treated me as nicely as him in a while, except for Gandalf, of course.”

“He’d probably marry you if he knew you looked like this, too.” Thranduil grumbled under his breath, but curse Bard and his hearing, because he heard.

“Marry me? Hm. Well he is very pretty, but I cannot. He is far too young, and I have other things to tend to before marriage is even a consideration.”

“How do you even know what marriage is?”

“I know more than you think. For instance, I know there are places that are open super late that have things like… _pancakes_.”

“How do you…never mind. You can eat when we get back.”

“We don’t have to eat now. Let’s just do _something_ while we’re out on the town!”

Thranduil snapped his head toward the brunette

“Was this your plan? Getting me out because you were bored? Because I know you knew the damn shop was closed.”

“It wasn’t my plan the whole time, until I realized you wouldn’t give up on it. Come on, mister, take me somewhere fun! I haven’t been able to do anything like this in a long time! _Please?_ ”

“Diner it is, but don’t think this is going to be a regular occurrence.”

Yes, Thranduil agreed to take Bard out to a very late night dinner, but _only_ because he was hungry himself. Maybe food and a strong coffee or a soothing tea would take a bit of his edginess away. _Maybe_.

 

Thranduil was sure to remove Bard's collar before taking him inside the only restaurant that was open at that hour, since he didn't need Bard drawing anymore attention to himself than he already would. The inside of the diner was extremely bright upon first entering and there was some pop song playing on the stereo. The only other people inside other than the employees were teenagers that all stared at both Thranduil and Bard as they stood at the hostess stand and waited for someone to come so they could be seated. Bard looked around, spinning around and letting his eyes drop from the ceiling to the floor repeatedly. At least he wasn’t questioning why they weren’t already sitting down.

“Can you read?” Thranduil asked and Bard stopped to face him.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh.” Thranduil said, clearly surprised, and Bard smirked.

“See? I know more than it may seem.”

“You can read, but you can’t get dressed?”

“I can dress myself.” Bard said with a straight face, causing a blush of anger and embarrassment to flare up on Thranduil’s dumbfounded face. The brunette laughed at him. “I simply don’t like to do it! I wasn’t lying when I said I often end up with my arms and legs in the wrong places, but that’s just my own clumsiness, I suppose. I’d rather be nude, honestly. Clothes are annoying. Don’t be mad, it was just a bit of _fun_.” He said, and ended with a wink.

Thranduil was going to kill him with his bare hands.

“Hello, hello!” a young woman greeted as she hurried over to the stand, her afro of black curls bouncing as she moved so swiftly, and grabbed two menus. Thranduil nudged Bard’s arm, seeing him stare impolitely at the silver ring in the girl’s septum. “Just two of you tonight?”

“Yes.” Thranduil answered, and they followed her to a booth. Thranduil gestured with his hand for Bard to sit across from his side, and so he did. Whether it was due to his instruction or not, he didn’t know.

“I’ll get your drink order in; what would you two gentlemen like?”

“A soda would be spectacular!” Bard exclaimed and the girl laughed.

“No.” Thranduil said flatly, cutting through the short moment of mutual pleasantry between Bard and the waitress. She eyed Thranduil very skeptically. “It’s very late…soda will keep you awake.”

“Hm, maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just take my hat off and air out a bit,” Bard teased with his teeth glinting through his smirk as he reached for the visor of the baseball hat. Thranduil clenched his fists below the table and kept daggers from flying off his tongue.

“Soda it is.” He agreed with a forced smile, trying to assure the waitress that everything was absolutely normal.

“Soda it is.” The girl repeated with a nod and looked back at Bard.

“I like this.” Bard said, pointing to his own nose where the girl had her piercing and she blushed lightly.

“Thank you. What kind of soda would you like? We have coca-cola products.”

“Do you have orange soda?”

“Yes, we do. Orange then?”

“Yes!”

The waitress giggled as her attention drifted back to Thranduil, who sat very stiffly in his seat. Before she could ask, Thranduil ordered a chamomile tea and she was off. The two of them watched her as she disappeared back into the cook’s station and then Thranduil’s gazed flashed furious. He shot it right at Bard, who was smiling as still watching where the girl had disappeared.

“She’s nice.”

“And you’re a _brat_.”

“I miss the little things about human life like soda, so if I have the chance to have one, I will.” Bard stated and met Thranduil’s stare unfazed. “I’m not a child, you know. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Forgive me.” Thranduil scoffed with a roll of his eyes. The damn idiot almost revealed he wasn’t human; no big deal, right? The nerve of this guy. Deciding it wise to avoid confrontation when possible, Thranduil just tapped the menu in front of Bard with his finger to send his attention there. “Look and see what you want to eat.”

“Oh, right.”

Bard went through each page at a leisurely pace, reading every option possible. Thranduil kept glancing up at him from his menu, still baffled at the fact that this version of Bard existed. What on Earth was he supposed to do with him? Was he stuck in this form permanently? Would he have to take care of him and let him keep living in his home? What was he going to tell Legolas? He rubbed his fingertips into his temples as he stared blankly at the open menu in front of him. Every thought made him feel nauseous, but he had to eat. Perhaps something smooth and light, in case he actually threw up at some point during the night. Soup sounded safe. Bard, of course, ordered a stack of strawberry pancakes with powdered sugar, sausage, hasbrowns, and eggs.

“Will you be able to finish all that?” Thranduil joked, no smile appearing on his face as his cup brushed his lips. He inhaled the scent of the steaming tea before taking a sip.

“You bet! I haven’t eaten so well in a long time. I can’t wait to taste it!”

“What do you normally eat?” Thranduil inquired, remembering his naked figure and how very thin it was. He wiped the image away before he could think any more of it.

“Cat food. Sometimes Gandalf would give me bits of human food when I was like this with him, though. Before that…ah, that doesn’t matter. Here I am, about to have a lot of something good!”

Thranduil instantly detected unease in Bard’s voice, something he had not heard from him before. He looked down into his tea before attempting to analyze the brunette’s intricate expression. He was still smiling, but something wasn’t quite right.

“I want to thank you,” Bard said, his eyes suddenly connecting to Thranduil’s. He paused, seemingly taken aback by meeting Thranduil’s softened gaze that was already set on him. “For this, and for everything else. Even if you are grumpy, you’ve done a lot, so thank you.”

“You can thank me by telling me exactly what you are and why I was the one to end up with you.” Thranduil spoke with a calm quality of voice, edged with burning and urgent curiosity.

“Not still stuck on Gandalf answering all your questions, I see.” Bard commented with just enough snark to make Thranduil’s eyebrow twitch. At the mention of the old man, Thranduil remembered something he’d said when questioning him about the reason behind the “no neutering” clause: _“I think Bard may answer most of the questions for you himself”._ Ha. The clerk probably got a good laugh out of that one. At least now Thranduil knew why the clause was included in the paper work and why it was so necessary. The thought of having Bard neutered like this was a horrifying one.

“Let’s start with… _this_ ,” Thranduil said, waving his hand in a circle around Bard. “What the hell are you supposed to be? And don’t say a _moonie_ , because that doesn’t help me any. I don’t know what that is.”

“A moonie is someone who transforms according to the moon’s cycles. Every time a full moon comes, I change into this form for seven days.” Bard explained, his expression surprisingly staid, but his hazel eyes still sparkled brightly.

“ _Seven days?_ What am I supposed to do with you for seven days? My son thinks you’re a cat.”

“Just tell him the truth.”

“No.”

“I think he should know.”

“We’ll worry about that later. What happens after seven days?” Thranduil prodded, leaning further across the table with interest.

“I go back to the way I was when you first met me until the next full moon comes.”

“Have you always been like this?”

“No, not always.”

“When did it start?”

“When I was fourteen.”

“How?”

“I got unlucky. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“…And?”

“If I tell you the full, true story, you won’t believe me, even though I sit before you as I am now.”

“Try me.” Thranduil challenged, so Bard sat back in his seat and let his eyes wander as he recalled the strange tale from memory.

“Where I used to live was known for it’s lake, but no one ever went there, claiming that it was haunted. I never believed such stories. It was night and I was walking near the lake alone. The lake shimmered beneath the light of the full moon, beautiful as ever, but the lake looked like pure, melted silver. I thought the darkness was just playing tricks on me, but when I touched it, it was thick and ice cold. Ripples went all the way across the span of the lake and then the water began to move and the ground shook. I wanted to leave, but I was too mesmerized by what I saw: I giant serpent, like a dragon, rising from the water! Red were it’s scales and he was terrifying. He darted toward me, his body slithering through the water in the blink of an eye, and he breathed heavily on my face. I still remember the smell...it was like, death and greed, if the two have scents. He spoke in a language I couldn’t understand. He shifted into a human body, tall and angular with his features. Then he spoke in English, saying his name was Smaug and that I had wronged him once and I had wronged him again by tainting his silver treasure with my hands. So he cursed me, said only one could free me, and he sunk back into the lake, never seen by my eyes again even to this day.”

Thranduil let Bard’s words sink into his head, into his body. Something about it was utterly believable and petrifying. There was no denying that Bard was what he said he was, and since that was so, that also meant that the story of how he came to be that way had to be true too, transforming dragon included. Something about it felt close and familiar. Thranduil didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

“How old are you now?” Thranduil asked hushedly.

“I’m twenty six. When Smaug cursed me and made it clear that there would be only one who could rid me of this stupid spell and make me human again, I’ve had dreams, blurred dreams, of a figure with long hair that almost looked white, like yours and Legolas’. I waited and waited for four years in that shop. Gandalf had saved me from a bad place and I’m grateful, but I just wanted _the one_ to come _so badly_. When Gandalf saw you two, he thought that one of you could be it. I was thinking it was going to be Legolas, but it seems I was wrong. I am drawn to _you_ in a different way, a sensation I have never experienced before, so you are the one…I think.”

“And this assumption is based off of your dreams?”

“Yes, but I can _feel_ it.”

“So that’s what you said you needed my help for? Breaking this curse?”

“That, and something else.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to help me find my children.”

“ _Children?_ ” Thranduil asked, his voice rising in astonishment. It was just one thing after another!

“Yes. I have three and they are all like me.”

“So you…you mated with another moonie?”

“No. I have never met another like me, other than my children. Their mother was a cat and beautiful by those standards, and I was a cat at the time, so it’s not like it was _that_ weird. Somehow, the kids all turned out like me…but their mother, she’s gone. She has been a long time.”

The world had expanded one hundred times over in a matter of minutes in Thranduil’s point of view. There were no bounds, no limitations. There was unjust evil and there was magic. Most of all, there was fear, fear in Thranduil for himself and for his son; now that they were wrapped up in this mess, they were certainly at risk. Bard swiftly reached his arm across the table and clasped his hand around Thranduil’s.

“I need you.” He said, staring determinedly into Thranduil’s eyes. “I need you to help me find my children. I can’t do it on my own in this condition. I can barely do anything and I don’t want to live like this anymore. You cannot abandon me, mister, _please_.”

“This mister thing has to stop.” Thranduil stated more awkwardly than he would have liked to admit.

“Then what shall I call you?”

“Thranduil.”

“Will you help me, _Thranduil?_ ” Bard pleaded with desperate, beautiful eyes. The way he spoke Thranduil’s name made the bumps rise on the blonde’s skin. Everything about this scared him; it was the reality of a fantasy and its familiarity. It stirred distant feelings in him, far away enough to be called foreign, but near enough to feel natural.

Why did Bard have to be so attractive? Maybe if he were less so, Thranduil might be able to say no if he wanted, but did he want to?

“I…”

“Here you go! One big breakfast and a soup!” the waitress announced and Bard’s hand abandoned the blonde in an instant, his face radiating with joy as the plate stuffed with food was set down on the table.

“Oh, pancakes!” Bard exclaimed and stabbed the prongs of his fork right through the mountain of pancakes stacked in front of him.


End file.
